


Passenger Seat

by nepp3



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Dean, Car Sex, Depressed Dean, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Songfic, Suicidal Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 10:25:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13456281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nepp3/pseuds/nepp3
Summary: Right here, right now, in the place he is most used to being, with his right hand out of the window and the Pacific ocean breeze breathing on him, Castiel realizes how much he misses that.





	Passenger Seat

**Author's Note:**

> So get this; I have a calculus exam in less than six hours and instead of studying I'm right here writing a shitty fic 'cause I'm a poor excuse for a human. 
> 
> Aaanyways, title and overall fic inspired by this cute song I came across the other day, Passenger Seat by Clueless Kit feat(Kora). I recommend you guys listen to this, not just for the fic but in general.
> 
> Also, Skeeter Davis because Girl, Interrupted, I mean c'mon. And, yes, I love Dolly, don't judge.
> 
> That's a whole lotta notes for such a small fic but I'm feeling chatty. I haven't proofread this, I just finished it so if anyone ever reads this and finds mistakes please tell me, that's what friends are for. I can't be smiling with lettuce in my teeth.
> 
> Cheers!

In retrospect, Castiel knows that this is _not_ how people communicate, predominantly. Or how they should, at least.

 

It takes a weird kind of relationship - for lack of better word - and a unique combination of people to get to this situation. Not the the situation in and of itself is all that bizarre. No, Castiel and Dean are known for their spontaneous midnight drives. Or they used to be.

 

Right here, right now, in the place he is most used to being, with his right hand out of the window and the Pacific ocean breeze breathing on him, Castiel realizes how much he misses that. He exhales cigarette smoke and taps the ashes of his rolled cigarette on the car ashtray that he _knows_ Dean brought out just for him.

 

The thought makes him nostalgic. He used to be the only person who had the clear to smoke inside the Impala. Know matter how much Dean loves that car and how much more he hates the fact that Castiel smokes, he always let him fill _his Baby_ with nicotine.

 

He's not sure if that's true anymore.

 

“Still content with dying early?”

 

That is a loaded question, coming from his friend. He knows it, they both do.

 

“Aren't we all?” Castiel answers with sad smile. This is a weird way to start conversation after so many months.

 

“Hm.” Dean only acknowledges and they fall silent again.

 

They Impala’s radio is tuned to some classic rock station, one of those Castiel is sure only Dean and a couple of sixty year old dads still listen to.

 

He doesn't complain, though. He never could.

 

“How is Sam?”

 

“You know, same old. Still working for that stupid company answering damn phones even though he has a law degree. Him and Eileen are looking up for adoption, they're high in the list at this point.”

 

“That's great.”

 

“Yeah, it is.”

 

Time goes by as they drive through by the ocean. God, how he missed that. That comfortable silence between them. It's the only time he can shut his thoughts and be calm. Weird thing to believe since most of his sleepless thoughts _are_ about Dean, these days.

 

Songs come and go, miles and miles of highway road under the car's tires, the ashtray is slowly getting full and Castiel is a mixture of calm and on edge.

 

They should be talking about things,bickering about their lives, picking up from where they left off, or even fighting at this point would be justified. But Dean seems content on being silent, so that's what they do.

 

More minutes go by, Castiel is not sure how many, but the host on the radio has changed and the music is lighter, older.

 

Familiar notes fill the car and Castiel rushes to turn the volume up.

 

[ _Why does the sun go on shining?/ Why does the sea rush to shore?/ Don't they know it's the end of the world?/ Cause you don't love me anymore._ ](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=sonLd-32ns4)

 

He closes his eyes to enjoy the song when he hears a soft chuckle coming from Dean.

 

“What?” He asks without opening his eyes.

 

“You always did like those soft country crap.”  Dean answers with no little mockery in his voice.

 

“You like country, Dean.” There they go again.

 

“I like Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson, not Skeeter freakin’ Davis.” Dean replies defensively.

 

“What's wrong with Skeeter Davis?”

 

“She sounds like she's crying all the time.”

 

“Maybe she does, what's it to you?” Castiel fires back but the smile is evident in his voice. They used to fight about music so often he knows what's coming already.

 

“I don't like my music like that.”

 

“How _do_ you like your music, then?” Castiel still has his eyes closed, but he just _knows_ Dean is frowning and putting on his best overly masculine face.

 

“Heavy, loud and angry.”

 

“I see.” answers Castiel and peers one eye open to see his friend's - _Dean's -_ reaction. “What about Dolly Parton, Dean? What is opinion on her?” he asks, smirking.

 

Dean goes red in the face immediately, whether it's from anger or embarrassment is hard to tell.

 

“Wow, that is _low,_ Cas.” He offers with fake-offend and Castiel just has to laugh at that,and maybe the old nickname made his heart skip a beat. Maybe.

 

Dean and Castiel used to spend their days in Castiel’s house a lot throughout the past years. Especially their nights, drinking and watching movies and listening to music and talking about everything and nothing in particular. It was in one of those drunken shenanigans that Dean confessed to Castiel his _tiny crush_ on Dolly Parton. Needless to say, he never lived that one down.

 

The memory of Dean’s awestruck face while explaining all the things that make Dolly _Dolly_ makes Castiel laugh even harder.

 

“Aw, you know what, fuck you. You fucking _wish_ you’ll look that good pushing seventy.”

 

“I'll look even better, just wait and you'll see.” Castiel answers through his laughs.

 

“No, I won't.” Dean says, more to himself, but Castiel hears it nonetheless and it's enough to wipe his smile immediately.

 

The car is silent again. Uncomfortably so.

 

“Dean-"

 

“No, that was stupid of me to say, I'm sorry.” Dean says defeated and Castiel’s heart breaks a bit.

 

“Why are you apologising?” Another loaded question.

 

Dean is silent for enough time that Castiel thinks he's not going to answer at all.

 

“For everything.” Dean finally admits and isn't that fucking stupid. Castiel should be the one apologising, but that's for later. It's not even one a.m. yet.

 

“Fuck everything, why are apologising for that particular statement?”

 

Dean rubs the back of his neck nervously and Castiel is hit by a thousand memories of Dean throughout the eight years they know each other doing that move. He didn't like it then and he doesn't like it now.

 

“You know,” he offers while moving his right hand all over the place. “you shouldn't have to listen to that. You don't like it and you've told me so, so that was idiotic of me to bring it up.”

 

Castiel can hear his heart breaking at this point, but he's too busy being absolutely fucking terrified.

 

“Me not appreciating what you say does _not_ mean you can't always say it. _Always_ , Dean.” Castiel can't even express himself correctly right now.

 

“Okay, Cas.” Dean says incredulously.

 

“Dean, look at me.” Castiel demands.

 

“I'm fucking driving.”

 

“Dean, there's no one out there, will you fucking look at me?”

 

Dean does, only for a few seconds and then his eyes are glued on the road again.

 

Castiel sighs. They're doing this. Right now.

 

“Dean, I know, I fucking know that things have been weird between us, and rightfully so. I know that I'm to blame for this situation-”

 

“Cas, no-"

 

“Dean, _please_ let me say this.” At Dean's silence Castiel takes a breathe and continues. “There is nothing, absolutely _nothing_ you have to say that I don't want to listen, no matter how self-deprecating, no matter how irrelevant it may seem to you I _always_ want to know it. I would give my life for you, and that's not because I value my life too little, but because I value yours too much. You know that, Dean. You can't _not_ know that, no matter what has happened between us. There is no hour of the day, of any day, that you are not in my mind. Sometimes in the back, sometimes in the front row,but always there. I'll always be there when you call.” He's breathing heavily at this point, slightly aware that Dean is pulling over.

 

“But that's a lie, isn't it?” Castiel continues, more to himself than Dean, but he owes him that, he has to tell him. “I wasn't there when I should have been.When you _called._ I'm such a liar, Dean. Suck a fucking liar. I couldn't even answer my damn phone. What if- what if.” He takes another useless breathe. “And then I came. I came and made things worse. I barged into your house, I didn't see the signs, the _fucking signs, Dean._ I spent years learning them and I _didn't_ _see them_ ’-"

 

“It wasn't your job-"

 

“Yes it fucking was. Of course it was. I wanted it to be. I _want_ it to be. And I came and I was blind and I only cared about my stupid little self, and my stupid unrequited love and I _did not see them.”_ His throat is closing right now and Dean is at his side in a millisecond. Because Dean always is, it's Castiel who fails at the task.

 

“Hey, hey, Cas, no. Do not say that. Please.” Dean begs and Castiel hates it because it's his fucking fault. He hates Dean’s fingers swiping tears from his eyes because this not about him, but he had to go and _make it_ about him, didn't he.

 

“Shh, no, Cas. This is as about you as it is about me. This is about _us._ Don't you get that? Breathe, Cas, c’mon.” Dean pleads and Castiel is aware that he spends the little oxygen he has left to think aloud.

 

“I'm so sorry, Dean," _hiccup “_ so fucking _sorry,_ you can't even imagine,” _hiccup “_ how much I regret what I did that day" _hiccup_ “dammit!”

 

Dean chuckles lowly and, despite everything, Castiel glares at him.

 

“It's okay, Cas, it's all okay. You know that, right? I could never be mad at you. It was not even your fault, it was not your job. It's still not, but you know the place is open for youto take.” Dean looks at him with such sweet eyes and it brings tears to his eyes once again.

 

“I do not deserve that, Dean. How can you _say_ that? You were hours away from killing yourself” and saying that brings a hundred ugly chills down his spine “and all I did was take. Take take _take._ I came in and fucked you and left and I was angry. So fucking angry that you couldn't love me back, that all you wanted was _that_. Me fucking you instead of making love to you. And I fed into whatever you were feeling, Dean. I fucking throwed bread all over it like a duck in a lake-"

 

“You're not supposed to feed them bread you know.” Dean interrupts and earns a hard glare from Castiel. “What? It's really fucking bad for them.” he adds.

 

“Just like what I did to you. What if Charlie hadn't found you on time? What if Charlie decided that that night she wanted to stay home and not come uninvited? What if, Dean? I wouldn't have come back. I _didn't_ come back. _What if no one came, Dean?”_ Castiel is shouting hysterically at this point, and with no right to do so, whatsoever.

 

“Then I would have achieved my goal, Cas.” Dean says, almost whimpering, like he doesn't want to say that, but he has to. And that makes Castiel sob like a toddler.

 

Dean is on him, of course. Through rounds and rounds of sobs, holding him tight and whispering soothingly in his ear, while he Castiel apologises again and again, like he forgot he did in the first place.

 

It's a long time until he quiets down enough to realise the situation. The realness of it all.

 

“I would have done it anyway, Cas.” Dean admits. “Maybe not that particular day, or maybe not even that week, but it would happen. Just like it had happened before that, just like it will again.” Dean offers calmly.

 

“Don't say that, Dean.”

 

“It's true, Castiel. You said you wanted to hear everything, so there it is. Can you handle it?” This time there is malice in his voice but he doesn't let go of Castiel,not does he expect and answer.

 

“Yes, you hurt me.” Dean provides and Castiel flinches immediately. “But I deserved it, man. I was an asshole to you. You were my best friend, Cas, and I couldn't lose that. I did anyways, but at that point I couldn't trade our friendship for what you wanted. I told you that and you didn't accept it, not really. Your tried, and I'm not mad at you. I don't blame you for anything. Maybe I should, but that's not me. Just like I don't blame Dad, or Lisa, or Sam. Hell, I don't even blame Michael.” At the mention of his cousins name Castiel is suddenly furious.

 

“You _should.”_

 

“Please, Cas, let me finish.” He shuts up. “I don't blame him, man. Did he hurt me? Yes, hell yes. But I let him do that. I let him manipulate me and keep me locked up and fuck me, whatever.”

 

“Rape, Dean. He raped you.”

 

“Whatever the fuck, that's not the point.” _But how can it not be?_ “The point is, I didn't put up a fight, about anything. He is a piece of shit, I knew that. _Right_ from the start and I let myself get sucked in a relationship with him. I let myself be bossed around by John and I let myself love Lisa. _I_ did that, Cas, not them. And it all went to hell. I couldn't do that with you. _To_ you. Because you were different. What we had was different.” Dean's eyes are watering now but he pays it no mind so Castiel can only do the same.

 

“And I kept you to myself. You were mine, but I didn't want you to be, and I hurt you in the process. And for that I am so fucking sorry.” A tear escapes but it might as well haven't. “Other people's mistakes are not _your_ mistakes, Cas. _My_ poor judgment and whatever that brought on is not your fault. Seeing the ‘signs’ was not your responsibility. _I_ was not your responsibility. I was your friend and I only ever wanted your to act like that. So, no. I am not mad that you weren't there, knight in shining armour, to save me when I slit my wrists. And I'm not gonna be mad that you won't be there when I finally buy a gun and blow my brains out. I only ask that you are with me in the meantime.”

 

Castiel’s heart is now beating rapidly. He is fifty percent terrified at the confession of Dean’s plans and fifty percent amazed by the underlying promise of second chance. He has to carefully choose what to keep tucked in his brain and what to act on now.

 

“What are saying, Dean? Is this you telling me that we can build a friendship again?”

 

“That, Castiel, is me asking for permission to kiss you.” Dean says and Castiel calls bullshit, because that was so not was he was saying, but who is he to decline such an offer?

 

“Permission granted.”

 

Dean acts fast, like Castiel could vanish in thin air any minute now. His lips are unsure and trembling, wet with tears and it could not be more perfect. It last a few seconds but it shocks Castiel’s entire world. It's not the first time they've kissed, but it's the only time there is promise behind it other that a quick fuck.

 

Just as quickly they seperate, Dean resting his forehead on Castiel’s.

 

“You know I can't promise what you want me to promise.” Dean asks in a non questioning tone.

 

“I know. I only ask that you try, Dean. Please. Let me help, let _someone_ help.”

 

“I'm in therapy, you know.” Dean says and Castiel’s eyes widen. “What? You though Sam Winchester would find out and _not_ force me to see a shrink?” He laughs humorlessly.

 

“Thank God for Sam.”

 

They kiss again, softer this time but it's more insistent. Dean's hands tug on Castiel’s hair and his own are holding each side of his friend's face steadily.

 

He doesn't know who deepens the kiss first but now that it happened it seems like they can't stop. Their hands are everywhere, caressing and grabing and worshiping. Castiel changes their positions and straddles Dean’s lap in one swift move.

 

“Cas.”

 

“What is it, Dean? What do you want?”  

 

“This, just- this.”

 

Dean’s hands rest on his hips and Castiel takes the liberty to start unbuttoning Dean’s flannel shirt. Met with no argument he removes it and his own coat.

 

[ _Baby when I met you there was peace unknown./ I set out to get you with a fire too comb._ ](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=lixDK_tMEhE)

 

Somehow Castiel hadn't realized that the radio is still on until now. He has to break the kiss and laugh at their situation.

 

“This is ridiculous.” Dean points out and Castiel laughs louder.

 

“Can you manage to not think of Dolly while we're making out?”

 

“Eat me, Cas.”

 

“Damn right I will.”

 

Dean attacks him with another heated kiss while struggling to take his shirt off without breaking it. Castiel decides to spear him and remove both of their shirts, but nothing if only just in time to talk the lyrics in Dean’s ear.

 

“ _No more will you cry, baby, I will hurt you never.”_ As a joke, but not so much.

 

“I hate you, Novak.” Dean spits out with soft eyes.

 

“You should.” Castiel says solemnly because, apparently, his job tonight is to kill the mood.

 

“But you know I don't. I could never.” Dean takes a big breath, like what comes next is serious. “I love you. I've never loved anyone as I love you. If I die tomorrow, if my time ends soon you _have_ to know that.”

 

Fuck.

 

“No, baby, I didn't say that to make you cry. Again.” Dean says smiling and Castiel laughs a watery laugh.

 

“I love you, too, Dean. You know that, right?”

 

“I know, Cas, I know. Now c’mere.”

 

Castiel goes willingly and Dean kisses him deeply. The sweet revelation is short lived in his mind and quickly replaced by _want_ when Dean rolls his hips and groans into their kiss.

 

“Fuck, Cas, c’mon, c’mon.” Dean pleads while kissing along Castiel’s neck.

 

“What do you want? Anything.”

 

Dean leans in to take one of Castiel’s nipples in his mouth and suck and Castiel would be more enthusiastic about if he hadn't just laid eyes on Dean’s forearms.

 

He disentangles himself from Dean’s embrace and grabs his wrists lightly to inspect them.

 

He’s seen scars before. All kinds of them. He is a teacher after all, kids  sometimes forget that teachers have eyes and that they care about their students wellbeing. Hell, he’s even seen Dean’s past scars, but this somehow feels different. It _is_ different.

 

“Stop, Cas.” Dean commands while yanking his hands away.

 

“Dean-"

 

“No, Cas, I said stop that. Those would be there whether you were in my life or not. There would just be more if you weren't.”

 

Castiel has no other answer but to lean in and kiss him with as much love as he can pour into it.

 

And Dean responds, he accepts the love, the apologises and the regret and answers with some of his own.

 

It doesn't take long for the temperature to rise once again, and this time is holding nothing back. He thrusts his hips upwards while holding Castiel’s ass steady and moans loudly.

 

“Dean.” Castiel commands. “Tell me what you want.”

 

“You, Cas. There's nothing else to want but you.” He takes Castiel’s ear lobe in his mouth and half-whispers, half-moans in his ear in time with his thrusts. “Fuck me, baby, please.”

 

Castiel groans loudly and can't keep himself from thrusting back down.

 

“No. Not here, Dean.”

 

“Yes, here. Please, Castiel.”

 

And fuck, Castiel can't even begin to argue further.

 

“Do you have stuff?” Castiel asks in a moment of clarity.

 

“Of course I fucking have _stuff_ , Cas. How.much do you think I've changed in eighteen months?” Dean asks and Castiel is about to apologise again but he's interrupted. “Behind you. _Hurry._ ”

 

Castiel decides that he can apologise another time, for now he reaches behind and opens the glove compartment to find lube and a condom. When he does he changes positions so that Dean is underneath him, head resting on the passenger door.

 

“Take off your fucking pants, Cas.”

 

“You're in no position to talk, Winchester, you're also still wearing yours.”

 

“Yeah, and who's fault is that?”

 

Castiel unbuckles Dean’s belt and drags the zipper down slow enough to irritate Dean and laugh under his breath. In one quick motion he has Dean’s jeans and underwear around his ankles.

 

Dean gasps and hurries to kick off his shoes, with a little help from Castiel. After the clothes hit the floor of the Impala Dean brings his knees to his chest to make space for Castiel to step of his own pants.

 

At the image of Dean's hard cock in front of him, red and leaking, and his friend's hole clenching in the cold air Castiel can't help but stare, mouth suddenly dry and salivating at the same time.

 

“Hurry the fuck up, Cas, I ain't putting on a show here.”

 

“I beg to differ.” Castiel says lamely but steps out of his pants as well. Just as quickly as he's only in his boxers, Castiel opens the bottle of lube and pour more than enough on his left hand.

 

“I'm not a virgin, Cas, and this stuff is not cheap either.” Dean bickers.

 

“I'll get you a lifetime supply of coconut flavored lube.”

 

“I hate coconut.” Dean argues.

 

“I know.” Castiel smiles and kisses Dean's nose, despite his noises of disapproval.

 

Before Dean can even open his mouth Castiel’s finger is massaging his rim and slowly pushing in.

 

“Fuck. C’mon, more.”

 

“Dean, I _just_ started.”

 

“And it's already getting late. C’mon, Cas, you know how I like it.”

 

Castiel knows, but he can't help but think that Dean wants the pain because he believes he deserves it. Either way, Castiel is in no rush.

 

He opens Dean up slowly, all the while Dean is moaning and complaining. As soon his third finger enters Dean he groans a sweet sound that make precome drip out of his own neglected cock.

 

Suddenly he can't wait anymore and Dean seems to sense it.

 

“Cas, man, please.”

 

Castiel pushes his fingers just right to massage Dean's prostate and extracts them just as quickly.

 

Dean is breathless and constantly at this point and Castiel can't wipe his fingers fast enough to wear the condom.

 

Once he does, Dean grabs the lube and coats Castiel’s cock liberally, teasing in the meantime. Castiel drops his head back and groans in pleasure.

 

“Shit, Dean.”

 

“Mm, yeah. C’mon, man, hurry up and fuck me.” He says, all the while still stroking Castiel’s cock.

 

“Stop doing that and maybe I will.” Castiel teases back, like there's any way he could _not_ right now.

 

Dean, thankfully, keeps his fingers away from that part of his body, but he does grab Castiel’s neck, bringing him down to a bruising kiss. Not that Castiel is complaining.

 

For all the teasing preparation Castiel gave Dean earlier, he knows better than to perform this part slowly. He knows how Dean likes this and he can't not give it to him.

 

He lines up his cock to his friend's hole and pushes in all at once. He only gives them a second before he starts thrusting in earnest.

 

“ _Fuck,_ yes, Cas, mm.”

 

Dean moans and moans and wraps his legs around Castiel’s waist, locking his ankles together and urging him to thrust deeper, faster.

 

They rest their foreheads together most of the time and move together perfectly. Castiel brings his hands to Dean’s chest to pinch and roll his nipples and Dean groans like he can't restrain himself anymore.

 

Castiel changes the angle so that he hits Dean’s prostate with every thrust and the sounds that come out of his friend's mouth are to be treasured.

 

“Shit, Dean, you have no idea how much I missed this.”

 

“Me too, baby, _fuck._ ”

 

“I missed you, so much. I was so afraid to send you that message today, even more so than I was when I wrote you that letter eighteen months ago.”

 

“I'm glad you did, Cas. So fucking _glad_.” Dean half-talks, half-moans.

 

“I love you, with all of my heart, all of my being. I will never stop loving you, never stop reminding you how much you mean to me. To everything.” Castiel speeds up his thrusts and pushes Dean’s hand away when he goes to touch his cock.

 

“No, Dean. Like that. Can you do that for me?”

 

“Fuck, yeah, Cas, I can, but _please.”_

 

“I can't imagine my life without you. A day in a world you won't exist in. A day won't pass where you won't feel loved by me, I can promise you that.”

 

“ _Cas_.” Dean whines and with a particularly hard thrust he is coming all over their chests and his own chin.

 

Castiel leans in to lick the cum off of Dean while milking him through his orgasm.

 

“Fuck, baby, _fuck._ Oh my God, Cas.”

 

“Will you let me, Dean? Will you let me love you through it?” Castiel asks and no matter what they've shared so far, _this_ is the most important moment in his short life. This is his now or never.

 

“Yes, Cas. I'm yours as long as I am.” Dean confesses breathlessly and that's all it takes for Castiel to drop his head on Dean’s shoulder and empty himself inside the condom.

 

Dean combs Castiel’s hair with his fingers while they both come down from their highs.

 

It isn't until later, when they're cuddled up together, in the middle of the road somewhere, listening to the radio and each other's heartbeat, breathing the ocean breeze and each others air that they talk again.

 

Castiel rolls a cigarette and lights it, taking a long drag. It's taken from his mouth too soon by Dean’s fingers and put in his own mouth.

 

While Dean takes a deep drag Castiel is confused.

 

“You don't smoke.” He accuses his friend.

 

“Don't I? It seems like a I do.” Dean smiles while exhaling expertly.

 

“I don't understand.”

 

“If I'm not gonna die all at once I might as well die slowly, right?”

 

It's such a self-destructive thing to say, but not the most harmful one Dean could have answered. Not the most absolute conversation stopper he could offer.

 

On the contrary, while anyone else would  rush to correct Dean, to offer him reasons why his answer is flawed and his mind is working wrong, Castiel just leans in and kisses him. Passionately and smiling; because he knows.

 

He understands the meaning of Dean's words, the promise to try. The promise of _future._ Future together.

 

They'll have all the time in the world to fix themselves.

 

In the future.

**Author's Note:**

> Useless note; I think I may be experiencing the symptoms of appendicitis. Has any of ever been through that? 
> 
> Hey at least if I go into surgery (or die) I won't have to write this fucking exam.


End file.
